Monday, July 20, 2020

On Alcohol by Sam Sax

On Alcohol

 

my first drink was in my mother

my next, my bris. doctor spread red

wine across my lips. took my foreskin

 

 

every time i drink     i lose something

 

 

no one knows the origins of alcohol. tho surely an accident

before sacrament. agricultural apocrypha. enough grain stored up

for it to get weird in the cistern. rot gospel. god water

 

 

brandy was used to treat everything

from colds to pneumonia

frostbite to snake bites

 

tb patients were placed on ethanol drips

tonics & cough medicines

spooned into the crying mouths of children

 

 

each friday in synagogue a prayer for red

at dinner, the cemetery, the kitchen

spirits

 

 

how many times have i woke

strange in an unfamiliar bed?

my head neolithic

 

 

my grandfather died with a bottle in one hand

& flowers in the other. he called his drink his medicine

he called his woman

    she locked the door

 

 

i can only half blame alcohol for my overdose

the other half is my own hand

that poured the codeine    that lifted the red plastic again & again &

 

 

i’m trying to understand pleasure     it comes back

in flashes    every jean button thumbed open to reveal

a different man     every slurred & furious permission

 

 

i was sober a year before [          ] died

 

 

every time i drink     i lose someone

 

 

if you look close at the process of fermentation

you’ll see tiny animals destroying the living body

until it’s transformed into something more volatile

 

 

the wino outside the liquor store

mistakes me for his son



No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.